


Fuck You Very Much, Sir

by meh_guh



Series: Tony the Polyglot and his Sneaky Sniper Boyfriend [10]
Category: Marvel
Genre: M/M, back from the dead, justifiable anger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 09:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3244379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meh_guh/pseuds/meh_guh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So apparently Phil <i>didn't</i> die after all. At least, not permanently.</p>
<p>Clint's not sure how he feels about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuck You Very Much, Sir

' _I need you three streets over, Hawkeye,_ ' Cap barked through Clint's earpiece as Clint hooked one knee around a hilariously ugly gargoyle in order to lean out over 35th street to make his shot.

'Gotcha, Captain tight pants,' Clint shifted his weight and kicked away from the building, free-falling for ten whole seconds before Tony swooped in and caught him in a princess hold. 'Hiya honey.'

'Babycakes,' Tony tutted at Clint's grin. 'You gotta curb this Icarus thing you've got going on. What if I wasn't there to catch you?'

'Not gonna happen,' Clint twisted to send a couple of net arrows at the Hydra goons on 31st as they flew over. 'You like this ass _way_ too much to risk it getting mangled by a twenty story drop.'

'True,' Tony laughed, the sound a little tinny over the suit's speakers, and set Clint down on a rooftop beside a clunky air filtration system from about 1970. 'Gotta go; nazis to shoot.'

Clint blew a kiss after him and turned to head to the edge to provide Cap's cover fire.

About fifteen Hydra dicks were clumping around a black van; a covertly-armoured thing that practically screamed Government Secret Spies. Clint sent a few knockout canisters at them, scattering the main body of troops away from the door.

'You want them all unconscious or just humiliated?' Clint shot one of the most recent goop arrows and glued the littlest goon to the van's side panel. 'And which alphabet soup idiots are they tryin' to kidnap?'

' _Unknown_ ,' Cap actually sounded a little bored with punching nazis; Clint's whole world view was gonna crumble. ' _And contained, Hawkeye. Quickly._ '

'Hot date with Miss Potts?' Clint hopped up on the ledge and shot a couple of lazy nets at the remaining goons. The van's back door opened; just like the god damn CIA to wait until the danger was past before sweeping in to claim the arrests. Well, Clint had a mild psychotropic tranq with whatever the agent's name was on it. He drew the string back, grinning. 'I'm sure she'll forgiv-'

The agent jumped out of the van and scanned the street with a gut-wrenchingly familiar poise. Clint's vision went wonky and he felt his knees give way. He pitched forward, too shocked to even try and regain his balance as he tumbled off the roof. He heard Natasha yelling his name, was vaguely aware of his bow snapping as it caught against a fire escape, then his face connected with the railing as he bounced off it.

****

He woke up in the too-familiar surrounds of the Tower's infirmary, aching too badly for anything major to be broken.

'Why am I not on _all_ the morphine?' he whined at the ceiling.

'Because your spectacularly abysmal luck had you landing in a freshly-filled dumpster behind an Italian restaurant,' Natasha said, tone bored. 'So you sprained your wrist, racked up another concussion and got a few bruises. Not that Stark isn't throwing every hissy fit at Pym and McCoy on your behalf.'

Clint, now that he was assured he wouldn't cripple himself by doing so, sat up. 'Awesome. I bet that sponge bath was a thing to behold.'

Natasha smirked. 'It was pretty funny watching Stark torn between fury that the nurse was touching you and relief when all the old lasagne was gone.'

Clint laughed, then looked down at his hands. 'So did I have a long-overdue psychotic break or did Fury lie even more outrageously than usual?'

'You're no crazier than you've ever been,' Natasha stood up. 'He's sitting quietly in the games room because Stark banned him from the floor and also from leaving. Do you want me to get rid of him?'

Clint took a moment to examine his emotional state; _not_ something he enjoyed doing, but after the fuck up that had been Coulson, he and the SHEILD psychiatry unit (yes, an entire _unit_ had been involved in his debrief-slash-incarceration) had agreed that maybe Clint needed to take a moment every once in a while to take stock of how he was actually feeling.

'Clint?' Natasha prompted him, though she didn't move.

'Yeah,' Clint shook his head. 'Nah. Send him in.'

Natasha raised an eyebrow at the angle that indicated she was less than sold on Clint's compost mantis or whatever the fuck it was smart people called being not a total Bellvue loony.

Clint gave her a rueful smile, trusting her to read his uncertainty and his determination, as well as his acknowledgement of how much of a dumbass he remained.

Natasha let out a breath that was almost-but-not-quite a snort and slipped out of the room.

Clint took the opportunity presented and unhooked all the wires and sensors, though he left the drip in for the moment. It was just saline, after all, and a nicer way of rehydrating than Tony's rancid electrolyte things. He twisted as far as he could and fluffed the pillow up enough to lean against, smoothed the sheet over his lap, and then went still.

Five minutes for Natasha to make her way up to the Games room and tell whoever had decided they were on guard to let Him come down. Three minutes for Tony to pitch another fit, maybe another two before Natasha shut him down. Then five while the whole conga line came down _a-a-a-and-_

Clint could hear Tony the second the elevator doors opened, vicious and not bothering to hold back at all. Cap or Thor must've been there too, because Clint heard the usually-hilarious sound of a size-twenty hand clapping over Tony's big mouth, then a short exchange in low tones before the door opened and Phil came in.

'Hello, Clint,' Phil folded his hands in front of him the same as always; left hand circling right wrist and stance loose in case he needed to burst into action.

'Weirdest thing, Phil,' Clint said, voice as perfectly-controlled as if they were undercover together again. 'Heard you were dead.'

Phil inhaled, hardly louder than a normal breath but a definite reaction.

'Woulda gone to your funeral,' Clint continued, keeping his eyes on his own hands resting in his lap. 'Only I was in lockup getting raked over the coals for being the reason there _was_ a funeral. Also I woulda just embarrassed everyone by being a sopping fucking mess.'

'Clint...'

Clint looked up at last, gave Phil his hardest stare. 'I'm sure there was a _damn_ good reason, but I gotta tell you, Phil, I don't know if there's any reason that'll cut it for me.'

Phil's mouth pulled to one side; an unhappy expression he only indulged in private. 'I'm sorry, Clint. I _was_ dead for a while, and when I wasn't it took a long time before I found my equilibrium.'

Clint shifted, wincing when he woke some more bruises up, then he shook his head. 'Two years, Phil. They didn't pull my clearance; I'm still level eight. You coulda swung it even if Fury went hardcore need-to-know. You coulda found a way to tell me if you'd wanted to.'

'I...' Phil's shoulders lowered half an inch. 'I thought you were better off with a clean break. That you'd mourn for a while, then move on. Which you _did_ -'

'Fuck you very much, sir,' Clint swung his legs out from under the sheet and stood up. 'If I hadn't fallen off a building today, I'd be whaling on you right now.'

Phil took a deep breath. 'It's not a forever line of work we're in, Clint. I died, your brain got unscrambled, duty took us two different routes. The job comes first, you always knew that.'

'Not with Tony,' Clint said, then he sighed. 'I'm glad you un-died, Phil. World needs more ninja accountant-types, and Fury needs his good eye.'

'World could do with more Clint Bartons,' Phil smiled, and Clint swallowed around the ghost of some emotion. 'World's lucky to have even one.'

Clint sat down on the bed again, and after a few minutes, Phil ghosted out the door. Probably heading back to whatever crucial assignment Fury had him on, Clint figured.

'Are JARVIS and I hacking Agent's super secret sound system to play all-Bieber all the time?' Tony closed the door behind himself and climbed on the mattress beside Clint. 'We can do something nasty to the jet I found-'

'If I know Phil,' Clint wrapped his un-dripped arm around Tony and let his head rest on Tony's shoulder. 'He'll've convinced May to be his pilot, so we _really don't_ wanna fuck with her jet.'

Tony's arm slipped around Clint's waist and his hyperactive fingers started drumming in morse code.

Clint, eyes heavy again, frowned. 'Cute, Stark, but why are you tapping your love out on my hip? I'm too bruised up to do anything about it.'

Tony's fingers stilled and he let out a heavy breath. 'That wasn't the precursor to steamy, angry, you're-not-dead-and-I-still-love-you sex, was it?'

'Cuz you didn't catch me when I swan-dived off that apartment block?' Clint felt his face scrunch up, then Tony's clue bus backed over him. 'Wait, you think I'm gonna throw you over because Phil finally deigned to let me know he wasn't worm food? For a genius you are a real fucking bozo, Tony.'

Clint could feel the tension running out of Tony, and hey. They were already on a bed. He retrieved his good arm long enough to tug the needle out of his hand, then he pulled Tony down to act as a living pillow.

'I loved Phil, yeah,' Clint shoved at Tony until he could fit curled up with his head resting on Tony's left pec. 'But even if I still did – which I _don't_ \- he didn't bother telling me he was alive. I spent two years blaming myself for his death and the jerk doesn't even look me up? That on its own woulda been a deal breaker.'

Tony pressed a kiss into Clint's hair and pulled him a little closer. 'Just wanted to make sure.'

'Tony,' Clint pushed up just far enough to give Tony a serious look. 'I am the surest thing you'll ever get. Now go to sleep; some of us had a rough day.'


End file.
